Last Night Before Freedom
by BabyBeaver
Summary: I hate titling things, but it works! - Skillet's "The Last Night" and Andrea's story. Because it seemed to fit really well. But FYI, if you're squeamish when it comes to cutting and or suicide, I'd suggest you skip this one...


**August 5, 2010 – February, March, April 23, 2011**

****Just to let you know: Yes, this deals with suicide. If you are negatively affected by mentions of suicide, I'd suggest you not read any farther.**

**Skillet's "The Last Night" (parts of it, anyway. I cut out bits and pieces that I didn't necessarily need, parts that only made it longer than I really intended it to be) **

**Just FYI, we don't get much more of Andrea's story other than "parents divorced; started cutting; didn't know God yet." IDK if I'm taking liberties or not. **

**Also, in **_**Jake's Choice**_**(the second book (yes, the movie is also a book. Go read it. Google it or something. :P) in the series), we find out that Andrea was a junior in high school in **_**To Save A Life**_**. That means it'd been three years since she started cutting, and who knows how many since she'd quit. For the purposes of this story, Andrea is in eighth or ninth grade.**

_**To Save A Life**_** belongs to Jim & Rachel Britts, "The Last Night" to Skillet, and "Jesus Loves Me" to someone not me. I'm just borrowing their words and ideas because I feel like it.**

**I'm not sure I'm entirely satisfied with this, but… am I ever totally satisfied? This is one of the first things I've finished and posted in… who knows how long. I'm not even going to check, because it seems like a really, **_**really**_** long time ago. Oops.**

* * *

"_**You know, I used to be a cutter. Parents got divorced in eighth grade. I thought it was my fault. It was before I met God."**_

_**-To Save A Life, pg. 224**_

* * *

_You come to me with scars on your wrist  
You tell me this will be the last night feeling like this  
I just came to say goodbye  
I didn't want you to see me cry, I'm fine  
But I know it's a lie._

She was sick of it.

Sick of feeling like everything was going to come crashing down around her any minute.

Sick of the yelling, the fighting, and the divorce.

Sick of living, really.

So here she sat, with scars at different stages of healing lining her arms, poised to make the final cut.

The final stroke that would take the pain away for good.

The final slice that would silence the whispers of accusations and failure.

The suicide note rested on the bathroom counter, along with several journals filled with every emotion she had felt in the last year.

She willed herself not to cry, squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears away.  
_  
Your parents say everything is your fault  
But they don't know you like I know you they don't know you at all  
I'm so sick of when they say  
It's just a phase, you'll be o.k. you're fine  
But I know it's a lie._

They didn't say it was her fault, but she was certain it was.

They were thinking it.

She wasn't good enough somehow.

They were disappointed in her.

They were always arguing.

And it was all because of her.

Because her grades were slipping.

Because she was "rebelling."

Because she wasn't perfect.

Because they didn't love her anymore.

Something.

She was the reason her family was being torn apart.

_This is the last night you'll spend alone_  
_Look me in the eyes so I know you know_  
_I'm everywhere you want me to be._  
_The last night you'll spend alone,_  
_I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go,_  
_I'm everything you need me to be._

_The last night away from me_

_I won't let you say goodbye,_  
_I'll be your reason why._

_The last night away from me,_  
_Away from me._

She picked up the knife, ready to end everything here and now.

But she couldn't do it.

It was as if someone was physically keeping her from ending her life.

Her hand simply would not move.

And the words of a song she had learned at the Bible camp her parents had sent her to when she was young came rushing back:

_Jesus loves me, this I know  
for the Bible tells me so  
Little ones to Him belong;  
they are weak but He is strong._

_Yes, Jesus loves me.  
Yes, Jesus loves me.  
Yes, Jesus loves me:  
the Bible tells me so._

_Is it true_, she wondered. _Does God really love me? After all the terrible things I've done? I've ripped my family apart! How can He love me?_

**No.**

The word came from somewhere outside of her, but at the same time, it echoed within, deep down to her very core.

**No, you have _not_ ripped your family apart. You are not responsible for that. And I love you.**

_I love you._

She pondered that for a moment.

_Love…_

Something her parents had not done in what felt like forever. Sure, they said it, but they never went beyond the words to actually acting it out very well.

They didn't even love each other! How could they love her?

**I love you. I always have, and I always will. No matter what.**

The certainty in that statement, the promise that it held…

The knife dropped from her hand, and the tears began to flow unchecked.

For the first time in years, she felt loved.

And she felt free.

* * *

**Words**: 614 with lyrics, 410-ish without (which seems like a huge discrepancy, but oh well.)

**Time**: Hah. Heck if I even remember. A lot.

**Influences, Borrowed Ideas, and Other Random Crap**:

Some of this is actually based on a friend's story. She was made fun of in junior high and very seriously contemplated suicide. She had it all planned out, and was about to do it one afternoon. What saved her was a family member coming home at the right moment, before she could end everything. And I'm so very glad that she is still here, because she's a great friend and a wonderful role model.

"Jesus Loves Me" is (obviously) a song that most little kids (who go to church, and even probably some who don't) grow up learning. It was kind of a random choice. I was going to use the song that my friend sang when she became a Christian, but I couldn't remember what it was and I didn't want to waste time trying to find out. So I went with JLM instead.

Also, I think I maybe twisted the second verse's meaning, or even disregarded it a little. I didn't mention the "phase" thing, but Andrea could've hidden her struggles very well. A lot of people (pretty much everyone) get good at hiding.

Around here, we've had several suicides and many more attempts in the last month or so. It breaks my heart to know that so many people are struggling, and feel they can't turn to anyone for help. _**Please**_, if you are hurting, reach out. Find someone you can trust to talk to. Let someone help. There is hope. Rescue is possible. Trust me.

And yes, I'm aware that that first "no" seems a little funky, but it makes sense after you read a bit farther, yes? Hopefully?


End file.
